Sometimes I walk down Franklin Street en route to the bar (last night it was Enid’s), and guys rap about me. Just another typical Wednesday night. No big deal.
As I approached Franklin and Milton, there were two guys freestyling outside of a corner bodega, and one thought it would be a fun idea to incorporate the “pretty girl in the purple pants” into his rap as I walked by. Except I was wearing blue pants — as evidenced by the photo.
The best part? I didn’t even have to correct him because his friend (bro, boy, companion, dude) called him out on it. And then they started arguing. I continued on my stroll laughing silently. Actually, I laughed out loud. Who am I kidding?